When Sherlock woke, it was to find Molly already out of the bed, putting her hair in a ponytail.

"What are you doing, love?" he asked curiously, sitting up in the bed.

She glanced over at him, straightening her ponytail. "Well, I thought we'd go to the Getty Center after lunch, and the Ferris wheel, so we can have fish and chips for dinner like you suggested."

"And what do you propose we do this morning?" Sherlock raised a questioning brow.

"I don't know about you," she said pertly, "but I'm going to take advantage of the hotel pool again, after breakfast."

"Are you saying you don't want me to come with you?" He pouted and folded his arms over his chest.

"That depends." She tossed her head, swishing her ponytail. "There might be more people around earlier in the day, not that I have any idea. Do you think you can keep yourself under control?"

"That's like me asking you if you can keep from being sexy," he responded with a lascivious grin.

"I'm serious, Sherlock." She put her hands on her hips and gave him that look. "What if, you know- that happens again?"

"You mean what if I get turned on again?" he supplied helpfully, giving her a look of his own that made her blush quite satisfyingly.

"Yes, that." Despite her embarrassment, which really she had no right to feel - after all, he was the one who would be the subject of any awkward situations, her lips twitched slightly in amusement.

Sherlock thought for a moment. "Well, instead of just heading down there in your swimming costume and my trunks, we could use the robes from our bathroom," he suggested, thinking he was being rather clever.

"Well, I suppose so," she said grudgingly, nevertheless stepping closer to the bed and giving him a seductive look that belied her words. She was going to tempt him anyway.

They headed downstairs soon afterwards for breakfast. This time, Sherlock ate a little more, seeing as he had given almost half of his dinner the previous evening to his wife. She still exceeded his portion however, and he wondered where she was putting it all.

Back in their suite, they changed into their swimming costumes, put on the robes and went back downstairs to the pool.

There were a couple of families with small children in the pool, as well as two watchful lifeguards on duty, and Sherlock felt a little piqued. He'd have to behave himself, after all. That meant no getting handsy with his wife. She was just too tempting, extraordinarily so, and for some reason, her pregnant body made her even more attractive, probably because he knew they had made the child within her, and he found it astonishing the way her body had expanded to accommodate their future blessing.

There were some hotel provided beach balls next to the pool, obviously to be used by the guests, so Sherlock decided he and Molly might as well toss the ball to each other. That way I will be forced to keep my distance, he told himself silently. It wasn't long before another, somewhat younger couple came into the pool. They seemed to be interested in what Sherlock and Molly were doing, so his wife asked if they wanted to toss the ball to each other as teams.

The families with young children were at the shallow end of the pool, so Sherlock and Molly went to one side of the middle section of the pool and the other couple went to the other side. It was actually rather fun. They didn't even find out the names of the other couple, although by their accents and occasional words in a foreign language, Sherlock determined they were from Sweden. They four of them frolicked about for about an hour. Sherlock, of course, with his superior height and less girth to cart around his middle, fielded most of the balls, while Molly tackled the shots closer to the centre of the pool.

People came and went and finally, Molly said she had had enough, tossing the ball to the other couple who were still content to play with each other.

Molly's face was flushed from the exercise, but she was smiling brightly as they left the pool area with towels wrapped around their middles. Well, Molly's was really tucked more below her breasts and above her abdomen. They both wore their robes unbelted as well.

"Well, that was fun," she grinned, as they stood in the lift, waiting for the doors to open on their floor.

"It was fun, I have to agree," he told her, loving the way she was smiling and the light in her eyes.

Once in their hotel suite, he suggested, "Should we take a shower and wash the chlorine out of our hair and off our bodies?"

"Are you planning on seducing me afterwards?" she asked warily, looking at him from beneath her eyelashes.

He slid an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "Possibly." That upgraded to a definitely as soon as they stepped in the shower spray and he saw his wife tilting her head back under the spray, to wet it before washing her hair. She has such a swan-like neck, he thought, feeling the blood pumping in his veins as it always did, as he watched the water running in rivulets down her perfect body, that lovely belly where their baby was growing more each day, and that belly button he could swear was now completely pushed out.

"Can I help you wash your hair?" he offered, sliding carefully so he stood behind her instead of in front of her, and helping her remove her hair from its ponytail.

"I guess so." He knew she liked it when he washed her hair, because he always gave her a nice scalp massage as he did so. He lathered up her hair, trying not to tangle it in the process. The hotel provided shampoo was a 2-in-1 so there was no need for conditioner. She reciprocated, washing his hair. Some minutes later they were both clean.

"You know," Sherlock told Molly, as he faced her and caressed her shoulder, "I could brush your hair and braid it for you once we are out of the shower."

"That would be lovely," she said, fidgeting slightly in a rather tantalizing manner.

He added silkily, "Of course, by the time we get out of the shower and make love, it will be a bit more difficult to do that, because by that time your hair will be almost dry." He reached his other hand so he held both her shoulders and bent forward to kiss her neck, displacing the spray somewhat.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked coyly, trembling a little. Kissing Molly's neck always had that effect on her.

"Don't play the innocent with me, my lovely wife." His hands moved down to cup her rounded breasts. He thought perhaps this was the most enjoyable thing about Molly's pregnancy. She had increased two full cup sizes and he could no longer keep them contained within his hands.

Following a most satisfying time of loving one another, the spray continued to wash over them, the water now cooling to their heated bodies, until their breathing returned to normal and they were able to clean themselves once more before exiting the shower and wrapping themselves in fluffy towels.

True to his word, Sherlock brushed and braided Molly's hair, taking care to hold the hair near the root as he brushed, so it wouldn't pull at her scalp.

Then he kissed each of his wife's shoulders, before wrapping his arms around her, just under her breasts, over her ever-increasing abdomen. "Should we get dressed and head to the Getty Center now, and eat lunch there?" he asked Molly.

That sounds good," she agreed, and soon after getting dressed, they were on their way.

Almost as soon as they arrived at the Getty Center, Sherlock realized it had been a mistake. There was simply too much walking involved, going from place to place in the museum. Molly's ankles began to swell again within a half hour of walking around, looking at the sculptures and paintings.

"That's it, Molly, we're done here," he told her emphatically, taking her hand to lead her to the exit.

"But Sherlock, we've barely seen anything," she protested, biting her lip in consternation.

"Sweetheart, your feet are swollen already," he pointed out, indicating those poor distended appendages. "Don't they hurt?" He quirked an eyebrow at her, knowing what her answer would be.

She looked down at them and winced. "A little."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and squeezed her hand. "Look, I'll make you a deal. If we leave here now, we can go to the Santa Monica Pier and ride the Ferris Wheel twice. At least there you don't have to walk around as much."

Molly sighed, then brightened a little. "Fine. The Ferris wheel was what I wanted to ride on most, anyway. Apart from the Eye, I've never been on a full-sized one, just the ones at funfairs."

"Let's go, then." He dropped her hand and held his arm out for her, thinking she could rest some of her weight against him to ease the ache of her feet. She smiled and accepted the gesture gratefully, and he could tell by the way she leaned against him that her feet were indeed causing her considerable trouble.

He hailed a cab and they made their way to the Santa Monica Pier. Even before they arrived, they could see the big Ferris wheel, and he could sense Molly's excitement about going on it by the way she squeezed his hand in the cab.

They exited the taxi and made their way to the Ferris wheel. The Ferris wheel was part of a bigger amusement park, but the rides were fortunately priced individually. There wasn't a big line of people, but the attendant had them share a carriage with someone else, which was very disappointing to Molly. Sherlock knew she was thinking about the kiss he had promised to give her.

"Don't worry, love," he whispered. "I'll slip the attendant a few extra dollars next time so we can have a carriage to ourselves, okay?"

Molly smiled at him, with complete confidence in his ability. "Okay."

"So, this time around, let's enjoy the view," he added, raising a hand to her cheek briefly.

The view was lovely from so high up, and Sherlock was glad he had decided they could ride the Ferris wheel twice.

They alighted and got back into line. This time when they reached the front, Sherlock spoke softly to the attendant. "Could my wife and I have a carriage to ourselves, please? We are visiting from London and she is anxious to just enjoy the view without other company. I'd be happy to pay extra." He slid a glance at Molly, who was standing there with her hands resting on her abdomen.

The man started to say, "We don't allow-" and then he suddenly stopped and peered closer at both Sherlock and Molly, before returning his attention to the former. "Hey, aren't you the detective from that talk show the other night? Sherlock Holmes?" He seemed quite impressed.

Sherlock gave him a wink. "Yes, but please, I'd rather people not know my identity if possible. My wife and I are just trying to have a nice holiday while we are here." Might as well take advantage of my fame, if it will get Molly what she wants, he thought silently.

The man pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, indicating for the two couples behind Sherlock and Molly to go on the ride. "If I can have your autograph, I'll let you have a carriage to yourselves for free." He grinned broadly.

"Fine." Sherlock grabbed the paper, and a pen the man had pulled from his shirt pocket, signing his name with a flourish.

"Thanks," the attendant said with a big grin, pocketing the autograph, then motioning the couple to the next vacant carriage that had just been emptied.

Sherlock and Molly got in and sat across from one another, because they found the balance was off when they sat together, much to Sherlock's disappointment. "Probably why they usually put more than two in a carriage," he muttered, in an irritated tone.

Molly tried to reach towards him but her belly made it difficult, so Sherlock leaned forward as far as possible from his side, to hold her hands. The Ferris wheel moved slowly as the new passengers were added, while others got off.

Once they were almost at the top, Sherlock asked, stroking Molly's hands and leaning so he was almost off his seat. "Ready for your kiss?"

Molly nodded happily, shuffling forward as much as possible too, and as their carriage reached the top, he managed to slide one arm around her, holding the centre pole for support, then kissed her passionately.

Molly sighed contentedly and leaned into his embrace, putting a hand around his waist as her other one also held the pole to steady herself, and they continued to kiss during the slow descent. Once the carriages were filled with new occupants, the Ferris wheel turned faster, making several revolutions, before it slowed to let the passengers off.

As they rode, Sherlock ignored everything around them and continued to kiss Molly, enjoying the feeling of the breeze ruffling his hair.

It was with some reluctance he withdrew from her as they got close to the bottom, and they were soon off the ride.

As they left the Ferris wheel behind, he asked Molly. "So, was riding the Ferris wheel what you wanted it to be?"

She looked up at him with a sweet smile. "It was lovely, despite having to reach across to each other. Anywhere you kiss me is lovely." Then she added, wincing slightly, "But can we leave now? My feet are killing me."

"Of course, sweetheart." He put an arm around her and kissed her temple. "Remember, we are stopping off first at that fish and chip shop. It's a bit early, but we can always get some kind of dessert later at the hotel."

They found a taxi and Sherlock brought up the address of the fish and chip shop on his phone, which he gave to the driver.

The fish and chip shop was okay, Sherlock thought. It definitely wasn't as good as Joe's Fish Shop, but it was better than the French fries most places seemed to serve here. He noted that Molly ate hungrily. Their baby was going to be huge, he thought with a little smirk.

Molly noticed it and asked as a frown creased her forehead, "What are you smirking about?"

"Just thinking about Victoria," he said honestly, and his wife was content to leave it at that.

Back at the hotel, Sherlock instructed Molly to take off her shoes as soon as they got to their suite. He got a flannel from the bathroom, then washed her feet, after which he massaged them gently. It didn't seem to help the swelling, but Molly still seemed to enjoy it. Then he propped her feet up on pillows as he had done the previous day.

Molly lay back on the bed and he joined her, after taking off his usual suit jacket and his trousers so they wouldn't get creased too badly. He gave her a look of concern. "Sweetheart, your feet are not getting any better. Much as I hate to say it, I think we need to curtail our sightseeing."

Molly sighed and reached to grasp his hand. "I know. You're right of course. I just hate to waste this opportunity to do stuff."

"We have done quite a lot," Sherlock pointed out. "The Walk of Fame, the zoo, some of the Getty Center and the Ferris wheel."

She bit her lip and asked hopefully, "If we stay here tomorrow, can we at least go to that nightclub tomorrow night and do our little re-creation of my dream?"

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "We can do that. How do you want to approach it?" He looked at her questioningly. This was her idea after all.

Molly pondered the question for a few moments. "Well, I thought I'd find an open seat at the bar that has a vacant seat next to it, and put my handbag on it. You can do what you like to introduce yourself to me and try to seduce me with your sexy ways." She peeked over at him to gauge his reaction.

Sherlock chuckled and moved so he could raise himself on an elbow and rub her belly gently. "Is that so? And are we going to go on the dance fooor so I can kiss you properly, like you described happened in your dream?"

She giggled. "Most definitely. You know I rather enjoy kissing in public."' Sherlock gave her a sultry look. He remembered that pub from Super Bowl Sunday, when she had been kissing him in the dark and informed him she had removed her knickers in the ladies toilets. They had rushed home right away after that so he could make love to her. Definitely my naughty little angel.

"And after the kiss, I take you back to our hotel room to properly seduce you?" he asked, moving his hand beneath the maternity T-shirt she wore to stroke her bare skin. "Are you going to keep up the pretense that we have just met?"

Molly laughed and reached for his shirt buttons. "It would be fun to try, but the idea of you seducing a stranger who is seven months pregnant is rather risqué."

He tugged the T-shirt upwards and kissed her exposed belly before responding. "Let's see how it pans out, then."

Then he pulled the T-shirt back down, deciding she needed to rest those feet before he attempted any seduction. He did remove his shirt properly though as Molly had finished unbuttoning it.

Molly gave him a reproachful look when he did not take her in his arms as she had expected. This time he was the one making her wait and it gave him just a tiny sense of satisfaction after the way she had put him off the previous day.

Instead he slid an arm around her and told her, "Let's give your feet a chance to rest for a bit, shall we?"

Molly huffed, but snuggled into him anyway.

They spent the rest of the evening at the hotel, cuddling and watching telly, including the same late night talk show on which Sherlock had been a guest.

"Oh, look!" said Molly suddenly, leaning forward on the bed and dislodging Sherlock's arm from where it had been comfortably resting. "Adam Driver is going to be on."

"Adam who?" Sherlock furrowed his brow.

"You know, Kylo Ren from the latest Star Wars movies." She turned her head back towards him and cast him a sly glance. "He's rather hot."

Now that his arm was no longer resting on Molly's shoulders, Sherlock folded them in annoyance. "Molly, you are treading on thin ice, saying a man who has dark hair like me is hot. I might decide to get jealous."

Molly laughed and leaned back again, twisting her body towards him and kicking away the pillows that had been elevating her feet. "You know very well that you are the hottest man in the world. Your hair is curly and made for me to touch it." She reached to tweak one of those curls, then added playfully, "Besides, I can say a man is hot without being attracted to him. I'm just acknowledging he is good looking. But there will never be anyone who makes my heart beat faster, except for you, my love."

"There had better not be," he growled, trailing a possessive hand along her hip.. "If you really feel that way, you don't need to watch this Adam Driver fellow's interview, do you?"

Molly giggled, and with one motion criss-crossed her arms at the base of her T-shirt surprisingly well considering the size of her abdomen and pulled it over her head. "Oh, my jealous husband," she purred seductively as she gracefully reached behind herself to unclasp her own bra. "Fine, turn off the telly and I'll show you how much I love you and only you."

Sherlock needed no further invitation, snapping off the television with the remote, then tossing it aside and gathering his wife in his arms. "I'm waiting," he murmured, pulling off the now unfastened bra and drinking in the sight of her lovely curves that never failed to enthrall him. He then concentrated on removing the rest of her clothes.

And Molly demonstrated quite thoroughly as she helped him off with his own restrictive clothing that she was definitely not interested in anybody but him.

As they lay cuddled together, just before drifting off to sleep, Sherlock reflected that he was looking very much forward to the following night's nightclub scenario.

Author's note: I do love the idea of kissing on a Ferris wheel, don't you? I hope you enjoyed the playful, sexy banter between Sherlock and Molly in this chapter. I had a lot of fun writing it.

If you want to know what happened on that Super Bowl Sunday, it can be found in my story, Wanna watch the Super Bowl? If you haven't seen it, take a look, and, of course, I'd love to hear what you think about that one, as well as this chapter.